When the night is nigh
by Miss Sisyphus
Summary: Stream of consciousness. Fragments of romantic plots between Cullen and Evelyn.
1. 1 Chains that bind this ruined soul

Cullen stares at his table but says firmly, "I almost hurt you when you came to see me the other day. Besides, I can handle this myself." He sounds like he has already made up his mind, but he dares not to look her in the eyes.

"So you wish me to... walk away?" Evelyn's voice trembling.

"It is for the best." Cullen says indifferently, eyes still downcast. He knows he has to stay away from her, but he is not allowed by his own heart. He needs to drive her away.

"The best...", Evelyn can only repeat his words with pale lips. Her heart is voluble, but her throat in vain.

"We should bethink ourselves of our duties." Cullen says officially.

She looks at him, with a heart shivering like a winter's ague. Their eyes finally meet, it is only for a moment before Cullen looks away again, but it is enough for Evelyn to tell his determination. Even she, the inquisitor, finds it is hard to change this obstinate man's mind.

She can feel his pain, the withdrawal of Lyrium is physically suffering enough, and the fear of dereliction of duty is devouring him piece by piece, the duty as the commander, the duty as her beloved.

She will do whatever he shall wish, weal or woe, but never walking away.

However, it seems that she is irrelevant.

Cold, fitful wind is whispering among the Skyhold, louder than she could ever remember. She wishes to elude this distraught silence, but all the words have been futile as the blown forth upon the shore.

She knows he is sheltering her, and she wants to do the same for him.Like a flying moth darts into the fire, she is so lost to every thing but love of him. Their affection has gone public indeed, but love? She wonders if he would go that far. Something is just too premature to be said and may scare him off.

Alas.

"You just need time." she says to Cullen, then turns around and walks out of his office and leaves him no chance to speak. She is never a woman with a restive heart, but she will not concede this time.

But her heart is still stifled.

As a noble lady, Evelyn could always hide her real feelings under a polite smile instinctively, but this time, sullen mist just covers her moist eyes, "Maybe it is for the bleak air." she thinks.

Pride can be derived from the lowliness sometime.

"Forgive me." Cullen says it again, but to himself this time. His eyes landed on the cold hill side and thinks he was fortunate to look away from Evelyn, because he would rather go blind than watching her walks away. But why the fortune can be so heart-wrenching?

The moment he kissed her on the battlement is far more like a dim dream now, the pain inside him begins to overflow, like a unbreakable cage which incarcerates him in the deepest ocean for an eternity.

He has seen others suffering this before, a former Templar he recalled, who used to be an intrepid young warrior, was screaming and crying on the floor, covered by his own tears and vomitus, begging for a swift death. How could he ever let Evelyn see him like that?

And now, to him, the pain becomes more intolerable in each passing moment, he is aching all over, like tens of thousands of bugs biting him from the bone to the flesh. If he will fall to an eternal sleep among his cold ashes, if his love for her will let the grief undo the joys they once had, then he would rather end it now.

He is her most beautiful encounter as she told him when they danced in the moonlight at the Winter Palace, but he dose not want to be her most reluctant to leave, not if it will break her heart.


	2. 2 The weary winds are silent

Walking on the battlement after leaving Cullen's office, Evelyn can not hold back her tears anymore. Grown up as a Bann's daughter, she is not unfamiliar with men's game.

Love, which she thought she understood enough when she was very young, is only a game of striking a balance between family benefits and political alliances, and many women like her, are only chess pieces played by fate, or simply by men.

That is why she has never been with anyone before, it is hard to trust anyone who prejudges her as a lady with a bunch of titles and noble relatives. She knows too well about noble men's game, yet only too little about a sincere man's true heart, Cullen's heart.

"Are you alright inquisitor?" There stands the Champion, a tough woman who protected a whole city. Evelyn realizes that she has missed the stairs down to the tavern, she lowers her head a little to wipe away her tears quickly.

"Thank you for asking, there is nothing the matter with me." She says politely with a standard smile. Hawke smiles back, thinks the inquisitor may just keep walking, she was crying after all, Hawke could not help to ask her if she was alright, but never thought she would actually come along.

Evelyn has heard the legends of Hawke since many years ago when she was only a young lady living in a castle in Ostwick. Hawke's adventure in Deep Roads, her duel with Arishok, her determination to protect her city, they are like fascinating plots in some adventure fictions she used to read, but in a much more realistic, brutal way.

With Hawke's bright smile, Evelyn finds it is hard to imagine the equanimity with which Hawke remains after all those incessant occurrences. When Cassandra led her to the valley, Evelyn thought the breach in the sky was only an absurd nightmare of her until Solas held her glowing hand to close the rift. Because her left hand was aching enough to prove its authenticity. And then, she became the only hope of Thedas.

"It is strange to meet the people you have known before all this." Hawke says, with her eyes looking down to the Skyhold's courtyard. "I have seen your spy master in Lothering before the Blight, a Chantry sister, quite acquainted with my sister Bethany. "

"Varric said you met her again when she investigated the situation in Kirkwall. " Evelyn says, tries to picture Leliana as a Chantry sister.

"The left hand of the Divine she was, and now the candidate of Divine herself. " Hawke looks dreamingly, as she recaptures her own past in her mind.

With Coryphues hunting after her mark, Evelyn keeps herself from envisaging her own future, Skyhold seems to remain as ever, yet the people once here is no more. She rests her faltering hands upon the cold stone to hide her intranquil mind, maybe this is why she prefer the other side of the battlement, she thinks, if the mountains will remain, so will the stormiest passion of her soul.

"I am glad that he found you. " Hawke's voice distracts Evelyn from her melancholy. "Cullen, he looks very happy when he is with you. " "Is he?" Evelyn wonders. "Of course he is, I can barely recognize him from that serious knight captain, turns out he could smile after all, you cost me some gold coins inquisitor, I bet Varric he could not. "

The mountain breeze, now cold, now warm, makes it harder than ever to forget.


	3. 3 I wear out life in watching you

With a chill, Evelyn walks into her boudoir from the balcony, leaves the mountains ranges and the wreathing morning mist behind. Still it is early in the morning, nothing alive yet, only the perennially snow and the sun.

Snowflakes flying wildly in the frozen air, reminds her of the Heaven's training ground. The emerald green light from the breach mixed the pale yellow of the sunlight glowed upon Cullen's armor, while his amber eyes glinted in the sun.

His worrying about her safety before she left for Val Royeaux somehow arose a sense of security which she thought had already been lost under this tearing sky. Although she had been in Heaven for a while, the inquisition was more likely to a responsibility for Evelyn rather than a sense of belonging, but not anymore.

On the Skyhold's battlement, Cullen's eyes are blurred by the reflection of the early sunlight. His cheek languishes with pale and anguish, tries his utmost to hide his trembling limbs under his armor. Snowflakes are dancing in the morning ray, shining like Evelyn's flamy hair.

It was at Heaven's training ground, he recalls, when he almost gave a whole lecture to the Herald of Andraste, who seemed to be a fragile young lady with the weight of the world, was standing on the submontane snowfield, smiling at him.

Her ruby lips parted sweetly and remained while she was hearkening his faith in the inquisition. A piece of snow melted on her fair cheek, like a droplet of spring rains scattering on a leaf of jasmine flower. Just then, his heart revived.

"How do you feel?" Evelyn hugs him from behind around his waist tenderly, rests her head on his back, her gentle voice brings Cullen back to the Skyhold's battlement. He has been avoiding her since he tried to drive her away, an attempt which is bound to fail obviously.

For fear that his cold armor may freeze off Evelyn's delicately formed hands, Cullen removes them and turns quickly, then warms her hands by his own. "I will survive." He tries to hide his pain with a pleasantry.

After a small talk with Hawke, Evelyn determined to ignore Cullen's pretended apathy, she will never walk away if she can not deny her affection, especially when the two hearts throb as one.

Her nanny once told her an romantic exotic anecdote which said that one encounter in this lifetime between two souls acquires five hundreds glances in their previous life. Well, in view of what happened to her, it must cost her countless glances to meet Cullen, not to mention that her heart has already drifted to his side.

Evelyn sees the wearies and pains in Cullen's eyes, with a reaching hand, she tries to touch his cheek, but Cullen stops her, "We have to..."

Before he finishes his heartbreaking words, Evelyn raises herself on tiptoe and pecks his scar on his upper lip.

"If the one in whom I have lost heart do not stay, neither I will remain." She says to Cullen, just before he holds her tightly.


	4. 4 His heart most worthy of thy hate

At dusk, the faint surrounding mountains are gathering the starlight upon their heads, but Evelyn does not even notice the time.

In the bed, Cullen is unconscious, pale, fidgeting and sweating for about a day, suffering from the Lyrium withdrawal. His bones are burning under his skin and boiling his blood.

Sitting at his bedside, Evelyn has tried everything to drop his body temperature but was entirely futile. She will suffer for him if she could, but right now she feels completely incapacitated.

With a gust of cold wind whispering among the Skyhold, an idea appears suddenly in her mind. Without hesitation, Evelyn rushes out of the room and comes back quickly with a bucket.

With her daily dress on, Evelyn wets herself through with the icy snow water in the bucket and then awaits herself for trembling with cold. When the feeling of chilly is unbearable, she lays herself down by Cullen's side and presses her cold body to him as close as she could, hopes his heat could be absorbed by her cold body.

After several attempts, Cullen's fever finally abated and he falls asleep gradually. Evelyn feels much released, she wants to get up and let him rest, but the coldness and tiredness left her frozen bones unable to move. After a while, she is perplexed in a wakeful swoon.

Dream wind dispels the light mists and the floating clouds enshrouding the Skyhold, takes her mind back to the mountaintop of Haven.

It was a night as cold as tonight, when she was lost in the snow wanders after the avalanche, hobbled across the deep snow in the woods. At the edge of her hope, he found her.

"There, it is her!" Cullen shouted with a great relief. When Haven was buried by the avalanche, so was his heart. In his whole life, he had been suppressing his feelings for greater causes, the Chantry, the Order, the Inquisition. There were always something beyond him before, but when the mountain collapsed, he felt that everything was unrelated with him anymore.

Despite of what others might think, Cullen took off his armor and lifted Evelyn to his chest, gripped her tightened, tried to warmed her up with his body while he carried her back to camp.

"Do not leave me behind." He heard Evelyn murmured in a shivering, weak, tearful voice after she gathered the remnants of her strength to put her arms round his neck for balance.

"Never." He whispered in her ear before she felled into a weary but snug faint.

When the hills are all flat and the rivers are all dry, when it rains and snows in summer, when heaven and earth mingle, not until then will he part from her, he swore to himself.

Skyhold's casements glint in the gray light of dawn, throwing light rosiness on Evelyn's fairy cheek, awakes her from a distant dream.

Gently opens her eyes, Evelyn finds Cullen is still not awakened. With a blush, she realizes that she had never been this close to him with her fully conscious before, especially to his unarmored body.

Raising herself upon the bed, she touches his forehead and feels the fever has been subdued, but his pale face is still covered with anguish moist and fever dew because of his nightmare.

There are some food and refilled potion vials on the beside table, Maker, surgeons and servants must came in to check up before she woke up, or maybe it was Lelianna or Josephine.

Evelyn wishes she could dispel the burning heat on her cheek by simply shaking her head, apparently, even the chilly to the bone from the snow water last night is void as well.

This is her first chance to stare at his facial profile carefully, without worrying about her bashfulness triggers by his gentle gaze. She looks at him for a while, tries her best to embed his face in her mind so that she could ease her unbearable lovesickness a little when she is away from the Skyhold.

After an emotional gazing, Evelyn tries to get up and find a cold towel to wipe Cullen's sweat, but she just could not help herself to kiss lightly on the tip of his nose, surprisingly, she kisses him awake.

With a touch on her cheek, Cullen opens his blurred eyes and gazes into hers. Blushing like a full-blown rose, her breath becomes quick and short.

"You wake up." Evelyn says affectionately.

"Amell?" He asks softly.

She can feel the rose on her cheek is fading, petals are falling in the air, bestrewing her, then piercing her heart bitterly like thousands of blades.

Why bother wondering how long a beautiful flower can fresh and fair? For wind can whirl it to its end in a single day.


	5. 5 Arrival unheralded,departing noiseless

"Hush," Evelyn whispers to Cullen, swallows her heartache, "You need to rest."

Trying so hard not to tremble, she lays her head down, gently against his forehead and remains still, comforting him while hiding the heartbreak in her misty eyes and avoiding his infatuated gaze.

Evelyn could barely regain her strength and manage herself to leave after Cullen drifted back to sleep again. Dares not to look behind, for she fears to meet his tender eyes or hear his mild voice, for the first time.

After descended the ladder, she staggers out of his office, props herself against the stone wall just before the door closes behind her.

Bitterly cold occupies her whole body, makes her collapse, must be from the frosty morning air and her freezing bones, she thinks, refuses to recognize some certain brutal reasons.

Maker, she asks, how could the feelings once start simply be undone? This love which she is unable to evade—for when her tearful eyes banish it, it overruns her heart.

So dim, so dark, so dense, so dull, so damp, so dank, so dead.

The dazzling sunlight glared on the snow upon the mountain, leaving her to wonder if it had all been a dream. But better not, she wishes, for living in a world without him is more painful than any agony.

After went back to her quarters despondently, Evelyn fell ill with a bad cold and finally could not against a tired, deep and almost deathlike slumber.

And now, the bright star that heralds the approach of dawn begins to show. She needs to set out for Exalted Plains where sparks and ashes are still swirling around the dark wasteland after the civil war.

"Inquisitor," a soldier hands her a full cup when she steps out of her quarters, "Commander wishes you to drink this when you wake up, it will help you recuperate he said."

"Is he alright?" Evelyn asks instinctively. "The fever left him yesterday and he insisted to get back to work." The soldier replies. "I see." She says with a sense of relief.

"Please drink this while it is hot, my lady, it has been reheated several times, Commander does not allow you to drink cold." The soldier wants to make sure he will not disobey the command.

"Thank you, I will." Evelyn says, "And tell surgeon to sweetened his potions with honey, I will not be able to do it myself after the departure."

"Love is," She recalls a joke from Varric, "You may want to stab him sometimes, but you happen to find his favourite food on your way to get the knife, then you just bring the food to him happily and forget about the knife at all."

"What a wise dwarf." Evelyn shakes her head with a sigh and takes a sip. She finds it is hard to believe that this is her favourite taste of home, a kind of sweet drink which could only be found in Ostwick.

Her heart tosses and turns in its uncertainty whether she ought to pretend that she did not hear that heart-wrenching name, or whether she is brave enough to face him now with her overwhelmed heart.

To Evelyn, the hero of Ferelden is a savior who she worships unconditionally, a woman who performed great deeds, a woman who slayed an Archdemon when Evelyn was only a teenage girl obsessed with pretty things, a woman that Cullen...

Andraste, she does not dare to think about it anymore, all she wants now is to leave, to stay busy and ward off this troubled heart. Forces herself to the armory, Evelyn dresses herself in the armor.

The firelight dances over her face, over the delicate lines of her cheekbones. When she found out Cullen and Cassandra were quarreling about the Lyrium beside this furnace, she did not expect it could cause such a great agony.

After put on those shining pieces, she stands by the open fire, gazing at the dying embers and could think no more than sighs.

"Your armors have been checked already, your worship, Commander polished them himself last night." A soldier interrupts her infinite melancholy. "Thank you." She walks out the door, into the bright morning sunlight.

Beside the stable, the squad are waiting for her already. Evelyn smiles at them and turns to her horse but finds herself blocked by a hefty man, and clearly it is too late for escaping.

"I was hoping seeing you before the departure." Cullen says to her with a gentle smile.

Surgeon told him that she was there all the time and took care of him when he suffered from the addiction attack, and the quickness of his fever abating was nearly miraculous.

But the memory is clouded, all he could remember is the flame within in his blood which nourished up from the pain was extinguished by a watery coldness.

Nothing more, except the same demons and illusions haunted him since ten years ago. Better be nothing more, he hopes with an inauspicious sense of unsettling.

Tightly Cullen hugs Evelyn before she has any idea, gently touches her glossy hair, tries to remember her fragrant scent before she sets out. "I will miss you." He whispers in her left ear.

Then he realizes that her shoulders are trembling in front of his chest and she is actually weeping in his arms. After a few seconds he looses his arms and bends a little to find her eyes.

Maker, she looks feeble and absent-minded, like a fragile gardenia sways in the breeze under the pallid moonshine.

Evelyn looks into his eyes, tries to find a word in her tangled mind. Beneath her emerald eyes, Cullen sees her lovely freckles are magnified by small shells of tears, words are lingering around her shivering lips but unspoken.

"You may...um...you maybe right." She withholds from tears in front of the squad, endeavoring to be professional, "About the best."

His heart becomes a prey to the most incessant and cruel tortures. Best, the most regretful and the most foolish word he had ever said to his first and last love of his life.

"I...um...we need time." Evelyn lowers her head, turns around and walks toward her horse before he could wipe her tears away.

Without a thought, Cullen drags her forearm and draws her to his arms, crushing her in his embrace while kissing her so hard on her lips, makes Evelyn vanish inside the stormiest passion of his soul, just like their first kiss on the battlement.

Never regret to pay for true love, let alone being emaciated or even devastated because of her. He believes inflexibly.

"Time could only be time when you are with me." Ignoring the heartache, he gives her a warm smile while holding her on the horse.

"Keep her safe." He gives an decisively order to the squad and turns to walk away, leaves no any room for her to dispute.


	6. 6 Gather rosebuds while you may

In the Exalted Plains, relentless , cool breezes are whispering among this ancient forest.

For years and years those trees grow, without paying any attention to the internecine souls of this land.

On Evelyn's fagged face, mottled and spotted, sheds the shadow of lunar light. Trees may crave calm, but the wind will not silence, just like her restless heart.

The affection in Cullen's kiss is still making her heart ripple gently, but the light in her eyes is even more lonesome than the languid moon floating among the ripples.

For the sweet taste of missing him is somehow mixed with a slightly bitter and leaves her no drowsiness even after a hard day.

"She was beautiful, with her slim figure dressed in an exquisite robe, her dark hair and deep blue eyes not far off the colour of indigo night sky."

The starry sky just reminds Evelyn about Leliana's description of her encounter with the Hero of Ferelden.

The description she once thought as elegant as a poetical fantasy, is now a ruthless reality beyond her reach.

Disconsolate and distracted she paces to the campfire, hopes the flickering sparkle could expel the sleeplessness.

A lieutenant is writing reports by the fire, Evelyn smiles at him and motions him to continue.

With her eyes upon the envelopes bedside him, Evelyn discovers that there is a special mark on the top right corner of every prepared envelope.

"What is the meaning of it?" She asks the lieutenant curiously.

"It means you are safe, milady, Commander's order, he wants to know you are unharmed as soon as possible." He replies.

"Oh, um..." She can feel her heart leaps up while the rose's dye upon her cheeks spreading over her face and neck.

"Since when..." Evelyn does not know what to do with her bashful, only hopes her blush could be merged into the reflection of the flame.

"After you back to Haven from the Redcliffe Village, milady." The lieutenant pretends not to notice her flush.

"I see, and please carry on." Evelyn engraves her missing for Cullen on the mark with a gentle touch, but unaware of the corners of her mouth has curved up into a smile.

She remembers the anxiety upon Cullen's face after she arrived Haven with the information that the Redcliffe had been taken by Alexius.

"Herald," He stopped her after the war council. "I know Leliana and Cassandra prefer the mages, but I am not certain you are aware of the risk completely." He looked at her with a concerned expression, a little too concerned she thought.

He was protecting her since she joined the Inquisition, and she never denied his protection, even more dependent, as if she has the duty to accept his protection.

"I will reconsider it, Commander, but I hope you could know that the Templars are unpredictable as well." Evelyn said regrettably, she knew he held his Order in high regard, and she can not bear he was seen as a renegade by Lord Seeker in Val Royeaux.

"It is not about the Templar, cannot you see that?" His voice was becoming irritable, "You are allowing yourself to get into danger, Evelyn."

In a short but embarrassed silence, they both realized that it was the first time he called her by first name. The hall of the Chantry, no, the whole world had suddenly gone quiet, they could only hear the echoes of two thumping hearts.

"I...um...I mean...um..." Cullen looked at her bashfully and stuttered nervously. Maker, he must think of her quite often so that her name just blurted out. He tried to think of something to say but his mind just went blank with an increasing heartbeat.

For the first time in her life, Evelyn blushed with butterflies in her stomach. The tenderness and protectiveness behind his amber eyes were like the morning dewdrops, silent and soft, they moistened the opening petals in her heart.

A florescent heart which used to be nothing but a boundless wilderness.

Under the towering trees, Evelyn stands there in a trance, gazing across branches to the endless firmament, yet feels little of the leaves rustling wantonly, or of the moon that burns on indigo high.

For whom should the embriums by the roadside grow red from year to year? With a tender caress of an embrium flower, she wonders, for it is hard for them to meet, but separation is harder still.

It is hard for them to meet, but separation is harder still, Cullen lies awake thinking. With a bittersweet sigh, he reaches under his pillow and takes out an envelope.

Does the campfire warm enough for her? Does she eat well? Does she feel scared when she is attacked by the demons or undead creatures? Does she...

Staring at the mark on the envelope, Cullen is flooded with his endless thoughts. The reports always detail her actions but always lack of something.

"Is this what you want?" He could never forget Evelyn's words after he told her about his struggling with the Lyrium. In his whole life, undoubtedly he has known what he should do, yet never has days when he thinks about himself.

And there she was, caring about his own aspiration with extraordinary patience and great confidence in him. He was so amazed at how tolerant her heart is and how her petite fairy figure fits such an indomitable soul.

Cullen could not figure out why she said that before the departure. All he knows is that she never gives up on him, even after she saw his worst, she still believes in his best.

Besides, he knows that look, the same look he gave to her when he told her to walk away, the look which covered true feelings with insincerely words.

Why must they hurt each other with love?

"Unspoken love is hurt." Cullen is startled by the sudden appearance of Cole.

"Hesitant and uncertain, perturbed and reserved, the direction of heart can be changed completely with a small variable."

Then the boy vanished after he handed Cullen an embrium flower.

Only with the hazy evening remaining, the moonlight on the flower is like a quiet dream at an enchanted night, drifts here and sweeps over his heart.

Gather rosebuds while you may, wait not till the bloom is away, the embrium flower somehow eases his mind and makes him fall asleep.

Overlooking the distant snowy mountains, Evelyn finds the tower of Skyhold is loomed in ethereal cloud and mist.

She tries to ignore her troubled minds knowing she will see Cullen soon, but she could not even hide the blushes every time at the thought of him.

She tried to push him away when she left the Skyhold, but her determined mind only lasted a few seconds before she got lost in his kiss. She has already lost this fight when she kissed him back irresistibly.

Unconsciously, she is already in the Skyhold. "Cole?" Evelyn finds the boy is waiting for her beside the stable.

"Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He feels like quiet, stronger when you hold him." Cole said.

Hesitates no more, Evelyn runs to Cullen's office. She cannot understand her disturbed mind anymore. Something needs to be said.

"Cullen," Before he could say a word, Evelyn opens her lips with moist eyes, "I wish your heart be but like mine." Her eyelashes are trembling just like her heart.

"My heart is yours, Evelyn." Cullen steps closer to her and looks deep into her eyes, his voice is soft but cannot be more determined.

Evelyn could see her own reflection in his eyes, there is no one else but herself, there is nothing else but his love. Nothing needs to be said.

With one hand upon his heart and another on his shoulder, she raises herself on tiptoe and gives him a long, tender kiss on his right cheek.

After kissed her tears away, Cullen touches his forehead to hers and holds her tightly, like two trees with branches twined from spring to spring.


	7. 7 Love once begun, will never end

The sunshine of morn hugs verdant hills after the night rain drizzled on wild flowers. Gently thin, hazy, delicate and graceful, the morning ray is glistening through the mist.

Awakes from her sweet dreamland, Evelyn's bemused gaze falls on the diffused light shining through her tent. A feeling of secure and protected ensured her a night of peaceful slumber.

Cullen asked her to accompany him to Ferelden after he recuperated from Lyrium addiction, but without explaining why, yet she could inkle of something from his flustered voice.

Steps out of her tent into the morning light, Evelyn catches sight of Cullen at once, he is standing in the center of the camp, leaning forward, palms on the table top, studying a map.

A blur of sunlight catches his blond hair, in her eyes, he is even brighter than the sun. Involuntarily she studies his profile through the light haze of dawn.

The morning dew on his eyelashes contrasts finely with the dark hue of ragged hills, glittering brightly under the sunlight, kindles her heart instantaneously.

Absorbed in his work, Cullen does not notice her coming. All of a sudden, she gives him a light peck on the cheek. "Morning." Evelyn disguises her shyness with a smile as tender as a rosebud stretches out its first rouge petal in the morning breeze .

Maker, breathless and bashful, Cullen fixes his amber eyes on hers, two bright stars just get lost in a limpid emerald lake. "There you are." Says Cullen tenderly. Can not help smiling, he approaches her and takes her blushing face in both hands, then lays a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Come, I made you some breakfast." After their lips parted, Cullen takes her hand and leads her to the campfire, sits her down by the warm flames. "Just a moment," Said Cullen, "Let me reheat them."

"You are spoiling me, Commander." Evelyn looks up at him, a feeling of warmth overwhelms her and melts her heart. Love can appear out of nowhere, but it only gets deeper and so helplessly down further, she thinks.

"Spoiling you is my privilege, Inquisitor." Cullen lowers his voice, turns his face away before their eyes can meet, but Evelyn still finds his cheek appears lifted as if he is smirking as well.

Only she notices this kind of delicate sweetness, such as the gentle gaze he focuses on her when she is in his sight, or how he fails to conceal his delight when she enters the war room, or the meticulous expression on his face when he polishes her armour.

After the Conclave, Evelyn never thought she could find peace in such a precarious world. But there he is, like the unbreakable string of a kite, no matter how high she flies, no matter how fierce the wind sways her, no matter how smashed she crushes, her heart will not even tremble a bit.

"Shall we take a walk?" Cullen asks after their breakfast. "I will go wherever you go." She holds his right arm tenderly and together they walk out of the camp.

For a long time they walk without saying a word, just enjoying being together, as if this moment is too good to be true and even a slightest sound may break it up.

For Evelyn, this is her first time walking in the field without any armour since the Conclave, and she did not notice the wild can be so scenic before. With his left hand on his sword, she knows that Cullen must have spent great care to ensure her safety.

He is a head taller than her, when she turns her face towards him, she sees her own reflection in his pauldron. Aflame with the love for him, softer than a peach blossom, she can barely recognize herself from Corypheus's prey.

But suddenly a piercing pain in her marked hand wakes her from that intoxicating delight, makes her body shake uncontrollably. Solas left the Inquisition after his spirit friend faded, so the pain is worsening again without his magic.

Hates to disappoint Cullen, Evelyn takes a deep breath to endure the pain. "Come on, I will race you!" Before he can notice her ache, she releases his arm and runs towards a giant oak tree upon the hill.

"Wanna bet?" She looks back and grins at him during the running with her windblown hair glaring in the backlight. "If you lose, you will have another dance with me!" The pain is eased a little now, she can get lost in his heartwarming smile again.

"And if I win?" Cullen runs after her, breathless not for running but the recklessly wind in her flamboyant dancing hair, or the thin dress flipping around her ankles.

"I'll cook for you!" Evelyn laughs, almost reaches the dappled shade of that ancient oak. "You said it." Cullen quickens his steps and seizes her in his arms just before she touches the tree trunk.

"Hey!" Evelyn turns around in his arms, hands around his waist and looks up at him mischievously. "That is not fair." Panting and gasping for breath, she grins. "I guess we both won." With a doting voice, he pats her head tenderly with affection behind his eyes.

"So will you dance again?" Evelyn can still see the ray of dim moonlight which traversed leafy trees and illuminated the balcony of the Winter Palace. She was not unfamiliar with palace balls, but her movements suddenly became clumsy when his hands touched hers.

"Only for you." Cullen looks down tenderly into her eyes, takes a few steps with her until she leans against the trunk, then puts his right hand between her back and the rough bark as a soft bolster.

"Then I will try not to blow up Skyhold's kitchen." Evelyn can even hear the loud of her pounding heart. He is so close to her now, she can trace a ray of sunlight dyes his eyes broze yellow while his eyelashes cast a delicate shadow on his pupils.

Half shy and half nervous, Evelyn tears her eyes from his, then looks down at his breastplate and lays her marked hand gently on it, but Cullen leans towards her even closer. Her view is cut off entirely by his tall body now, she can do nothing but let her eyes close bashfully and her heart flutters wildly.

Cullen balances himself with his left hand on the oak trunk and bents slightly to meet her eyes. He can see her eyelashes are fluttering because of an adorable bashfulness, and her freckles are submerged by the rose pink on her cheeks.

Maker, he can command a whole army without any hesitation, but every time when he approaches her, he can not even control the pace of his own breathing.

After raised her face by kissing her cheek, gently he nuzzles her petite nose, and a feeling of slight cold proves that his face is even redder than hers. With nothing but happiness in the mind, he finally burns her rosy lips with his heartily kiss.

But all of a sudden, a flash of green ray lights from her aching hand, illuminates Cullen's cuirass, dazzles their eyes and finaly awakes them from this real fantasy. A moment later, Evelyn clenches her left hand and lowers her head to hide her painful expression from him.

"I am here." Cullen retains a hold on her shaking hand and holds her to sit down tenderly, then knees himself on the ground so that she can cradle in his arms.

He can never figure out of what this mark means to her, or to him. It is unlikely that they would have ever met if she did not attend to the Conclave, but right now, Cullen would rather they had not, so she may not suffer anything.

He does not want anything except keep her happy, but he knows his encounter with Evelyn must have exhausted all the luck of his lifetime. Yet still, he does have one more luck he can give to her.

After her pain subsided, Cullen lifts her in his arms and heads back to camp. "Cullen, you do not have to..." Evelyn feels a soft pink creeping over her cheeks but she can not find the heart to push him away for she is already lost in the warmth of his arms.

"Let me." Cullen lowers his head a little so her arms can surround his neck. Evelyn lays her head upon his shoulder and leans on him as close as possible, with a strong sense of security, she immerses herself in tranquility and peace.

"Maker, my arms." After put Evelyn gently on the bench near campfire, Cullen stretches his arms to ease the cramped muscles.

"Are you saying I am too heavy?" Evelyn looks at him with tease in her eyes and gets up to help relax his tired arms with gentle pats.

"What? No...I..." He holds her hands nervously with flustered voice. "I was afraid I might hurt you if I held you too tight, but if I did not, I might drop you on the ground. I just did not know what to do with my arms. I..."

"Can I change my wager ?" Touched by his artless words, Evelyn can feel a moist coolness passing her eyelids, like the mild summer rains dripping on rose leaves.

"If I win, you keep me with you for life." Half bashful, yet glad at heart, she insists.

Flowers will bloom and fade, the moon will wax and wane, but her heart will always be the same, for her hand may be marked by some absurd magic, but her soul is marked by Cullen.


	8. 8 Silence means more than words

Looking in the mirror, Evelyn takes offs her family jewelry and replaces it with a coin necklace. Slightly, she lowers her head, tries to tie the silk ribbon at the back of her neck.

The pale pink light of dawn shines through the window of her quarters, touching her skin. This ribbon is longer than the usual necklace, for she wants to ensure that this coin could be as close as possible to her own heart.

Gently she touches this pinky white ribbon which she selected herself, a vague, sweet gladness rises in her mind. How strange, she thinks, never noticed the tender colour like this could be so delightful before.

After dressing up, Evelyn walks out of the hall of Skyhold, remote snow mountains are glowing in the morning light, remind her the mild moonlight reflected on that peaceful lake, which belongs to Cullen and her merely.

Hawke and the warden are waiting for her in the West Approach, Evelyn takes a few deep breaths and rides out the gate with her squad, there are always times when her daydream is annihilated by reality.

"Take care of yourself, my love." Evelyn looks back at the battlements and murmurs. She smiles to that distant scarlet figure, she knows he is smiling back, but what she does not know is, his hands are holding on to those cold rocks tightly, trying so hard to hide his concerns.

Staring at her receding figure, Cullen wishes he could be an ordinary soldier who has the chance to fight at her side, rather than this perturbed commander. The only thing could ease his mind now is knowing that his luck is on her side.

"Commander," a soldier walks into his office, behind the soldier, the sunlight of afternoon dazzles his eyes and brings his mind back to his endless work.

He was looking out of the window, stretched in his office. The floating clouds and the hazy moon cannot retain his rare sweet dreams, he could almost see Evelyn's face in them, but when he wakes up, he could only feel her by staring at the few grains of sand from report papers.

"A letter from inquisitor herself." The soldier hastens towards to Cullen and hands him an envelope, lest this eager commander will stumble against the table.

There are two letters in the envelop, Cullen opens one and recognizes Evelyn's handwriting immediately. "My love," he looks up and ensure no one else is in his office because this is the first time she calls him like this, and he just cannot help his blushes.

After told Cullen how much she missed him, Evelyn said the Inquisition might have to fight against Gray Wardens, unfortunately, those heroes have turned to enemies. "But do not worry," said Evelyn, "the hero of Ferelden is not involved in this, she is alright."

He does not know why, but when he told Evelyn about Amell, she was not surprised, only showed an intense but cute jealousy when she repeated his word "lovely".

He told her about this after their trip to the lake, and it was easier than he thought. It feels like that Evelyn has already knows, but Morrigan does not look like the gossip type, he thinks.

He opens another letter and is surprised to find that it is a letter to Evelyn from Amell. The hero of Ferelden told the inquisitor that she is well and has her own missions to fulfil.

When he read this letter, Cullen thought he might have some complicated feelings, but all he thinks of now is Evelyn, her bright green eyes, her freckles, her smile... She has become his only sight.

And of course, the most of all, the two words she wrote in her letter. "My love." He murmurs to himself, his heart just beats wildly at the thought that those two words will be on Evelyn's lips.

At sunset, he cannot see the battlements but rugged mountains which rise and fall. She has confided her love to him, but he cannot even see her when he misses her the most.

In his hand, there is a small translucent stone glistening in the sun. He found it by the frozen river of Haven. Its colour is just as the same as Evelyn's eyes, so how could he just leave it in that frosty wind?

To the east Evelyn stretches her eyes, she sees nothing but misty mountains far and nigh. Hill upon hill, rill upon rill, in dreams she cannot come back to him for the road is still long.

She dreamed of drifting with the wind for thousand miles to find him, but was aroused by orioles' morning song. Does he still have nightmares? With right hand covering the coin and her heart, she worries.

The gray light of dawn casts her shadow on the lush grass and wildflowers, and they flourish like her pain of separation, which grows each day. They have already out of the desert, but the Skyhold is still far away.

But when she finally arrived Skyhold, she did not see that beloved figure on the battlements. After climbed those familiar stairs, she found Cullen sitting on the edge of his desk with a report in his hand, looks angry.

"Cullen?" She sits herself by his right side and looks worriedly at him. She knows his temper, so she has to refrain from kissing him now. But he remains silent, only hands her a report.

Evelyn begins to read it. Andraste, whoever wrote this, must be a better story teller than Varric. It is described in detail exactly how she induced a high dragon deliberately and how hard she killed the dragon.

She places the report on the desk lightly, then staring at him with a soft smile. He is looking at the floor, lips tightened, pretending to study the shadow of candles.

Slowly she runs her left hand across his right ear, over his cheek and down to the scar on his upper lip while staring at him. Cullen still looks upset, but starts to leans his cheek toward her tender hand.

"My love," said Evelyn gently. Fails to resist her softness any longer, Cullen raises his head to look at her and covers her hand with his. There is no more anger in his eyes, only a wave of fondly love about to overflow.

"You look so adorable when you..." Cullen stops her words with an enraptured kiss. Evelyn puts up her right hand to clasp his neck as he holds her tightly. Like stars to the moon, north, south, east, west, he will accompany her without any rest.

It is almost midnight, but the snow mountains illuminate the Skyhold fairly well. Standing at the gate of Skyhold's hall, Evelyn tucks her windswept hair behind her ears.

The light of his office is still on, she does not want to disturb him, only asks a soldier to send him a cup of hot drink, then she turns back to her own quarters.

They does not see each other often after she came back, because they both know they need to be prepared for the Adamant Fortress.

Her meeting with Livius Erimond just confirmed that she will face a major war which might cost many lives. And there is also an inexplicable ominous feeling about it.

When she was alone, everything seemed to be easier. But things are different now, she needs to be certain that no matter what happens, Cullen will survive all this vicissitudes. And she must fight harder to make this world a better place for him.

"Things are change, and you cannot always control how." The Champion's words twinge her heart when she about to meet Cullen in the war room. "Maker, please..." Evelyn closes her eyes tight and prays, tries so hard to take her mind off some dreadful probabilities.

Cullen gives her a gentle smile when she walks into the war room, but Evelyn can still notice a deep weariness behind his soft gaze. She smiles back and takes the map of Adamant Fortress's interior structure he offers while restrains herself from cuddling him.

Immediately she constrains herself to give all her attention to the map because he will be there as well, and she must control how things could change in there.

In order to study the map carefully, Evelyn lowers herself with her hands on the table. After some time, she feels a warm hand covers hers, strong but tenderly.

Without looking up, she turns her right hand over and interlocks her fingers with his tightly. Through their veins, their tender love flows like a stream, and silence means more than words at this very moment.


	9. 9 In fading moonligt rises parting grief

Beset with fear, Evelyn stands alone on the edge of a windswept dune in West Approach, gazing out to the distant Adamant Fortress.

Floating clouds cast shadows on the dim profile of the fortress, hovering over upon her heart. As Inquisitor, Evelyn never shows any sign of fear in front of others, but fortunately, it is easy to find a place to hide in the desert.

She can feel her hair is as cold as the paly starlight above, stirring in the evening breeze. With a shudder, She wraps herself around tightly with arms and tries hard not to think about tomorrow's battle.

With the strongest military force of the Inquisition and her Advisers' efforts, Evelyn knows she should not be scared, but the worsening aching in her hand keeps haunting her like this midnight chill.

"There you are." Said Cullen softly. A sense of warmness pervades in every inch of her skin when he hugs her from behind. She can feel his strong arms around her shivery waist gently, while his stubble is pressing against the right side of her forehead.

Quivering no more, Evelyn holds his hands and snuggles into his arms. With no word but a shy smile, she then raises herself on tiptoe while turns her reddened face to him. Softly she nuzzles his chin and cheek until their lips finally meet.

They did not even talk to each other along the way, for he had to command an army and she had to lead the way. Besides, compared with countless lives and some inevitable death, their affection seems to be as negligible as a grain of sand.

Gradually Evelyn closes her eyes, immerses herself in his love and thinks of nothing else. With him, she can just be herself, introverted, fragile or even sentimental...But never invincible as she should be.

Slowly, Cullen lowers himself so that Evelyn does not have to stand on her tiptoes. He can feel her lips part tenderly, sweet but icy, soft but shivering, make him cuddles her even tighter. For him, this moment is like a vernal dream, fleeting, yet will never ebb away.

After walking Evelyn back to her tent, Cullen thereupon sits outside the tent and starts to work again. If tonight has to be a sleepless one, at least she will fear less if she knows he is around.

"Alright, Inquisitor, you have your way in." He catches up with her at the fortress gate. He was afraid to see the frailness behind her eyes because from this moment, there is nothing he can do for her.

But all he can find from those emerald eyes is an unflinching light, like the pine trees in the mountains of Haven, brave the severe cold defiantly.

"I will be fine. Just keep the men safe." Before she turns around, he gets a fairy smile which he adores the most, and it is enough for him to feel a little relieved.

After she disappeared in the haze of blazing fire, he walks quickly away, dares not to look behind.

Cullen does not know how long he has been commanding the siege, and he does not care. Indefatigable and tireless he keeps working until his head is torn asunder by a howling screech.

The next thing jumps into his eyes is Corypheus's Archdemon flying straight to Evelyn's current whereabouts.

With a blank mind, he shuts his eyes tight and wishes this is an illusion. Just like his nightmares, this monster may disappear when he reopens his eyes.

But things go athwart, like always. He has already left her to that beast once..."I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again." His pledge flashes through his mind, the full trust in her moist eyes is now emerging in front of his vividly.

A few deep breaths allow him to back to work again, but his body is still shaking uncontrollably. He can never figure out how to be true to both his duty and affection with only one heart, and this is why he has never been in love with anyone before. But for Evelyn, he will never stop trying.

Just before dawn, there comes a deafening roar overhead. Cullen looks up and realizes that some parts of Adamant Fortress are collapsing. He does not know it is either good or bad, but somehow everything starts to fluster his heart.

Then there is a long silence, even that Archdemon is out of sight. "They are gone." After a while, this unbearable silence is broken by a panic lieutenant.

"Gone? " Cullen feels his stomach is squeezed by a strong force as his heart trembles wildly.

The lieutenant's mouth is still moving but Cullen hears nothing. It is like the crumbling debris of the fortress was falling on him and are crashing his heart.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, then endeavors to keep Evelyn out of his mind so that he could force himself to back to work.

Until there is no work to do. The battle is over, the fortress is occupied by the Inquisition, even those wounded soldiers are asleep. He is amazed that a grand fortress could be this quiet.

Countless times he has been reading those reports, but the Fade? As a former Templar, he never thought that he actually wants to be a mage one day.

Restlessly he paces on the battlements, back and forth, without knowing his clothes has chilled trough. He attempted to get some sleep so that he may enter the Fade to find her, but he cannot even stop pacing.

The burning sky has turned to indigo again, but for him, time seems to cease to exist. Motes of ashes, sands, and blood are still hanging suspended in the pallid moonlight. Gray, yellowish, crimson, but no emerald green which he longs the most.

Varric, Hawke, the Warden, he has known half of her squadmates for years. Unfamiliar maybe, but he knows they are capable enough to fight at her side. They must be, he tries to comfort himself.

Besides, he has faith in her. Virtuous yet decisive, considerate yet persevering, gentle yet dauntless, she always amazes him. He never told her how proud of her he is, how he adores her indomitable soul, and how he...loves her.

Maker, she is a woman who has killed several dragons, a woman who can even have him dance willingly. She will definitely be all right. Habitually he puts his hand in pocket to find his luck, then he realizes the coin is with her now.

With some relief, he keeps lingering and falls into a trance again. Then a crossbow arrowhead catches his eyes. It must be left by Varric when he fought his way through the battlements. As he picks it up, he cannot help but recalls the first time he embraced Evelyn.

He was training the recruits in the courtyard of Skyhold, but was also a little distracted, because nearby there was Evelyn, chatting with Varric and Sera, but looking in his direction.

Somehow he found it was very hard to take his eyes off her, maybe it was because of the dazzling sunlight in her hair, or the shiny reflection of her metal buttons. The sunshine was perfectly bright after all.

"Hey, curly!" Shouted the Varric next to Evelyn, "Our Inquisitor is looking at you!" He turned and found Varric was winking at him with a grin while Evelyn was trying to stop the dwarf nervously.

"I could teach you some sword skills if you are interested." With a soft look in eyes, he pretended to be calm. Heart fluttered, ears burned, he stepped closer to her, tried to figure out what was going on.

"I...um...I would love to." He got even more confused from her shyness. And while he escorted Evelyn to the training ground, he seemed to hear a long sigh from Varric, and Sera definitely said "Idiot".

Just as he was about to hand her a sword, a sound of an arrow cutting through the air. Without thinking, he seized her in arms to block the arrow with his body.

But the arrow just flew over his head and hit a tree in the distance. For a moment, he did not realize that he is holding Evelyn until he heard a chuckle from Sera. And there she was, delicately in his arms like a cherry blossom.

With her last bit of energy, Evelyn manages to finish the speech. But now, she finds herself speechless. After stumbling out of the crowd, she does not know where to go.

Engulfed by endless fear and anguish, she cannot even feel her own existence. A preposterous truth of her mark, a tormenting decision, a heartbreaking sacrifice are all thrilling through her veins, each of them is cruel enough to devastate her heart.

"We do not know what you will face before the end, this cannot hurt." The coin is clenched in her hand tightly, almost cut her skin. Right now, it is the only thing that keeps her soul from fading away.

But her longing for Cullen becomes a cause of inner struggle. For she does not know how to face such a righteous man after someone sacrificed for her own responsibility.

Herself may be drawn into the center of this collapsing world by an accidental but inevitable fate, but what about Haven? The whole village was destroyed by her ridiculous mark, all those people...She does not even dare to think about it.

Unconsciously, Evelyn starts to go up the stairs of Adamant Fortress. Although her tormenting mind is still fighting against her affection, her heart has already given in. With drooping head, she keeps climbing, until she comes in sight of an outstretched hand.

When her fingertips touch his palm, she can feel a wave of warmth from him instantly flows through her veins into her heart. Forgetting her aching cuts, she wants to be in his arms immediately. But so afraid of hurting her wounded body, Cullen only pulls her close to him very slowly.

In an affectionate silence, he squeezes her hand and takes the last few stairs with her. Walking beside Cullen, Evelyn still cannot believe how blessed she is. In this precarious world, there is a man who can always catch her when she falls. No matter what happens.

Atop those stairs, hand in hand they gaze at each other's moist eyes with words congealed on their lips. She is back, and it means everything to him. He is here for her now, and it makes her fate worthwhile.

He looks pale and gaunt, but the light behind his eyes reassures her that this is not the Fade. "You look haggard, my love." She smiles, finally regains some control of her quivering lips, but thoroughly loses her control of tears.

"I think I am better looking than you now." He smiles back softly, with his eyes wet and voice tight from fighting the tears. He can see the caked dirt and blood dissolve in her tears and is trickling slowly down her cheeks now, almost like Iron Bull's face paint.

The traces of those tears then reveal some of her freckles. Against her pallid skin, they stand out even more than usual. Gingerly, Cullen holds her careworn face, tries to wipe her tears with his thumbs. But he gives up, for his slightly trembling hands may touch the wounds on her face.

After imprinting a kiss upon Evelyn's forehead, he moves even closer to her, puts her arms around her with utmost care and places his lips on the top of her head.

Finally, she is in his arms again. Leaning on his chest, she melts, as a drifting cloud, diffused in a soft mist, lost no more.

Although they are both in armor, through those cold metals, she can still feel their hearts beat in perfect harmony by way of replying to each other's love. This feeling of being sheltered reminds her their first embrace, but beyond that, she also feels unbreakable.

Soon, nestling in his arms, a warmth of drowsiness oppresses her. Cannot resist her fatigued soul any longer, she drifts off to sleep.

Startled by a violent shudder, Evelyn wakes in an unbearable fright. Gasps with all her strength, she finds herself lying in a bed in the corner of a tent, armor removed.

Sits up in bed, she tries to wipe away her tears with the back of her hands. Then she realizes her dusty face has been cleaned and her wounds are carefully bandaged.

The light of campfire casts a familiar and beloved silhouette upon the other side of the tent. It seems Cullen is sitting on the ground, leans against her tent.

The shadow of his fluttered eyelashes tells her that he is still awake and is determined to spend the night in guarding her.

Driven by her heart, Evelyn steps towards him from the bed. With the canvas of her tent between them, she sits beside him, lightly rests her head on his shoulder.

"Sleep, Evelyn, I am not going anywhere." Gently, Cullen tilts his head and presses one cheek on the top of her head.

In a tender silence, she could finally close her eyes again. Placidly, she leans her languid body on him.

Unlike the dreadful Fade or her nightmares, this moment is real. The warmth of his shoulder, the tenderness of his voice, and the sense of complete security are all for real.

Transient maybe, but real, real enough for her to face the greatest fear.


End file.
